


When We Were Good

by constellxtions



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 11x04, Gap Filler, Husbands, M/M, POV Ian Gallagher, Season 11, ian is just worried about mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28696341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constellxtions/pseuds/constellxtions
Summary: And it’s not like he doesn’t trust Mickey. He does, he really does. He knows Mickey’s smart and that he knows what he’s doing. But that doesn’t make him feel any less scared. He’s scared to death, actually. He doesn’t want to lose it all again. He doesn’t want their marriage to fall apart. He doesn’t want to lose Mickey. He doesn’t feel like he’d be able to go through that again. He really can’t.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 9
Kudos: 101





	When We Were Good

**Author's Note:**

> So this is basically an Ian POV of 11x04, from the cereal scene to a brief look into what might have happened after the grow house. That's more Ian's thoughts than an actual gap filler, and that’s why it may sound a little bit chaotic.

If he wants to spend the morning like this, he can’t see why the hell not. It’s not like anyone in this house has any right to make him feel bad or something. Especially not Mickey. Not when he spent whole fucking weeks on the sofa doing absolutely nothing. And yeah, now he did get himself a job. But well, whatever. Does he want a fucking prize or something? Not to say that it’s also a borderline illegal job, but if he’s so stubborn he doesn’t understand that, there’s really nothing Ian can do anymore. 

So now here he is, eating cereal and drinking whiskey in the morning. How did he get to this point? He can’t really pinpoint the moment it all started to go from  _ newlyweds bliss  _ to  _ why don’t you fucking listen to me?  _ But still, if he really thinks about it over and over again, like he’s been doing for weeks now, it all started somewhere at the end of March, when the world went hopelessly to shit. 

He doesn’t think he’s asking that much. He doesn’t feel like explaining for the millionth time why he doesn’t want Mickey to do something illegal. So fuck it. He’s going to watch cartoons and drink enough to hopefully stop thinking about all this shit. About all their problems. Maybe his mind will stop portraying Mickey behind bars again. 

And it’s not like he doesn’t trust Mickey. He does, he really does. He knows Mickey’s smart and that he knows what he’s doing. But that doesn’t make him feel any less scared. He’s scared to death, actually. He doesn’t want to lose it all again. He doesn’t want their marriage to fall apart. He doesn’t want to lose Mickey. He doesn’t feel like he’d be able to go through that again. He really can’t. 

And maybe he’s so out of his mind that he doesn’t hear Mickey’s footsteps on the stairs, doesn’t hear his voice. Or maybe he does. Maybe he does but he just doesn’t want to talk to him because it’s  _ his fault _ he’s feeling like this. And yeah, the Milkoviches moving in next door with their shooting games and their chickens and their racist memorabilia don’t help, neither does the fact that he managed to get himself fired during the worst economic crisis in decades. But he can’t go yelling at the Milkoviches, nor can he take it out on a virus. So if he takes it out on Mickey, it is what it is. He doesn’t feel guilty, or maybe he does, a little. But does it really matter? It’s not like he punches him or yells at him. He just ignores him. 

But then Mickey’s hands are on his shoulders and he can’t really ignore him anymore. He feels the ring digging for the briefest of moments on his left shoulder and it makes him feel a little better, in a way. It reminds him that they are in this together, that even though everything seems to be going the wrong way, they are still together. And maybe everything is frustrating right now, but eventually it won’t be, right? Ian really hopes so. 

He can see Mickey’s worried. He knows exactly what he’s thinking. And maybe Ian’s expecting him to just  _ say it. _ To fucking check, because yeah, it isn’t  _ normal _ for him to sit around eating and drinking. It isn’t normal for him to feel down sometimes. He can’t be  _ too much _ but he can’t even be  _ too little. _ He must be normal. Or else it’s alarming. He fucking hates it. He’s allowed to  _ feel  _ things. It doesn’t mean he’s being manic or depressed. It means he’s human. He fucking _ hates it. _

But what he isn’t expecting is Mickey offering him a job. He isn’t expecting Mickey to gently, so gently take the bowl of cereal from his hands and tell him to go get dressed. And maybe he’s a little stunned, or maybe he isn’t, after all, because of course Mickey knows how to handle him. Of course he knows what to tell him in moments like this. But still, he’s not getting involved in anything illegal and he doesn’t really know how to make it more clear at this point. So he declines the offer and goes for the stairs, hoping Mickey will leave him alone. 

\---

Of course he doesn’t. He’s right behind him, leaning on the door sill. Ian knows he is, even if he can’t see him. He just wants to find a towel and get under the shower and maybe cry a little because he feels like he might explode at any moment now. So when Mickey asks him, “Why are you being like this?” he finally turns and looks at him for a brief moment. There is no venom in his voice, he’s just concerned and Ian feels a little bit like an asshole. But it doesn’t matter because he’s not getting involved in anything that might potentially get them thrown back in the joint. He’s not. So he just shrugs his shoulders and passes by Mickey and heads for the bathroom. 

He doesn’t lock the door because there is no lock but he also knows Mickey wouldn’t follow him here. Not now, at least. Yeah, Mickey might be worried but he still has his pride. He won’t beg him to talk to him, Ian knows that and he feels kind of relieved, honestly. He doesn’t feel like talking right now. 

He gets under the shower and the water is hot on his skin and it feels so good and he has to close his eyes because they are literally burning by now. At least he can pretend it’s water. But it doesn’t make him feel better, actually. He can’t fool himself. He knows it isn’t water. He knows why he’s crying. Their problems seem so huge right now and they are piling up on top of each other, he just can’t help it. He just wants to have a normal life. He wants them to have a normal life. He wants them to have their own place, their own house. He wants them to decorate it on their own, knowing they would probably do a terrible job but it would be  _ their house.  _ He doesn’t want to have to worry everyday for their safety. It doesn’t feel like that’s too much to ask. 

He doesn’t want to get involved in Mickey’s illegal shit.  _ He doesn’t. _ It may be legal, but it doesn’t sound legal at all. But when he heads back to their room, his skin hot and still wet from the shower, and he sees Mickey, an  _ ex-con,  _ with that fucking gun, he doesn’t really have a choice, does he? He can’t let him do that. He can’t, so if making sure he doesn’t go around risking being caught means that he’ll find him a better alternative to a gun that would still make him look good for the job, he will do that. 

If Mickey cannot understand that he doesn’t want him to end up in prison again, then he will make personally sure that he  _ does not _ end up in prison again. Fuck it. He can’t risk something like that happening, ever. He can’t risk Mickey Milkovich -his husband, the love of his life. 

\---

And maybe it isn’t that bad of an idea, after all. Maybe they are going to make it work. Fuck, for  _ a grand a day _ they sure as hell are going to make it work. 

As they leave the grow house, Ian can’t help but feel this thrill burning inside of him as he thinks,  _ a fucking grand a day.  _ Mickey’s laughing beside him and when he turns to face him he sees the look on his face. He’s amused, and he’s happy, and he can’t stop smiling. Fuck, Ian can’t stop smiling, too. They must look like two fucking idiots.

“Mickey.” He says and it turns out a little bit breathless, but fuck, he’s so excited. “I can’t fucking believe this.”

And maybe, if he’s being honest, he’s half expecting Mickey to say something like  _ told you, bitch,  _ but what he actually says makes him feel like what little air was left in his lungs was pulled out of him. 

“Come here.” Mickey says, and Ian feels like he can fucking fly when Mickey takes his head in his hands and kisses him right there, in the middle of the street. 

**Author's Note:**

> Quick disclaimer: I normally write fics first in my first language and then revisit them in English. This time I felt like writing it in English first, so if there's anything that doesn't sound right, just let me know!  
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading and feel free to leave a comment, I would appreciate it!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/constellxtions_) ♡


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